


All of the Whiskey…

by LadyMyfanwy



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 20:46:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12825744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMyfanwy/pseuds/LadyMyfanwy
Summary: How do you pick up a Welshman? Paraphrased from the Brad Paisley song – 'All the Pretty Girls'.Miss Beeb has wondered about this herself; she loves her Welshman!





	All of the Whiskey…

All of the Whiskey… Went to My Head; Shut Up and Kiss Me All the Pretty Boys Said

(Brad Paisley – ‘All the Pretty Girls’, paraphrased)

*****

It was Saturday night, a week before Christmas, and the local drinking establishments didn’t have to compete for business, their loud music following the office parties, valley boys, party girls, stag-dos, hen parties, dedicated boozers and first-time daters out into the streets and then back in the next open door. Pouring in from throughout the city and neighbouring towns, Cardiff’s Millennials overflowed the restaurants, pubs and clubs to mix and mingle with everyone else hoping to strike it lucky and get a shag out of the evening.

A lone Welshman was happily perched on a stool in his local, the Red Dragon Pub. Tucked away at the end of the bar, Ianto Jones was enjoying pints of beer with the occasional shot of whiskey. He’d had a long, hard week and splurging on a single-malt seemed appropriate and deserved. He used to come to the Dragon when he was in his late teens; he and his best mate, Daffyd turned eighteen on the same day, 19 August, and they’d celebrated with their first legal drink at the Dragon. 

As he sipped his beer, Ianto drifted off in memories of Daffyd; ‘I wonder whatever became of him?’ He sighed deeply. ‘Rhiannon would probably know, but…’ Estranged since their father’s death, brother and sister hadn’t spoken in nearly seven years. Shrugging off his unexpectedly morose mood, he slammed back the rest of his whisky and before he’d even set the glass back on the bar a new shot appeared in front of him.

“So, Heaven must be missing an angel.”

Ianto pondered this for a moment and then glanced briefly at the man who’d just sat down beside him. “I beg your pardon?”

“Well, you’re gorgeous, yeah?”

With a deep sigh, Ianto turned back to his beer, watching a bead of condensation slowly meander its way down the glass.

“If I said you had a beautiful body would you hold it against me?”

A heart-felt roll of the eyes said more than Ianto ever could; he took a long, slow drink of his beer, then set the glass down precisely in the centre of the little cardboard mat.

“I know! How about, of all the pubs in all the world you walk into mine.”

Ianto shook his head. “I believe I was here first; you did the walking, not me.”

“Can I buy you a drink, soldier?”

“You just did.” Ianto pointed to the shot of whiskey sitting untouched on the counter before him. ‘Who is this jerk?’ Truth be told, he wasn’t looking to pull; he just wanted some peace and quiet before he went home and fell into bed to sleep his drink off.

The stranger tried a different tack. “Hey, baby, like, what’s your sign?”

“Did you know that I’m actually dyslexic? Fanna wuck?”

That attempt was met with silence and required another drink, a looong one.

“You know, the more you drink the better I look.”

Ianto couldn’t help himself. He’s managed to successfully ignore the man despite his repeated attempts to engage but this one was just too hard to resist. He shot back his whiskey and turned to actually look at the man who’d just spent the last ten minutes trotting out some of the cheesiest come-on lines ever heard.

His eyes grew comically wide and he froze at the sight of the most gorgeous man he’d ever seen sitting on the stool next to him. Thick, dark hair, mesmerising blue eyes, a sparkling bright smile full of pearly white teeth with a naughty tilt to one corner of his lips – which were simply begging to be kissed – and a sculpted chin. 

Ignoring the scrutiny, the man said, “Where have you been all my life?” 

Embarrassed that he’d been caught staring, Ianto gulped his beer and signalled to Bethany for a refill. 

The next set of bad lines came in a rapid-fire sequence.

“Do your legs hurt from running through my dreams every night?”

“Will you light my fire?”

“Hey, baby, wanna get lucky?”

“What flavour is your underwear tonight?”

Ianto nearly lost it with that line and ended up snorting beer out his nose in an attempt to keep from laughing aloud. Luckily, as he wiped his face with a bar napkin courtesy of his oh-so-helpful bartender, a fight broke out in the corner and the man turned to see what all the commotion was about, giving Ianto a precious few seconds to regain his composure.

“So, you into handcuffs and leather?”

“Do you believe in love at first sight or should I sit down again?”

Ianto’s eye roll was accompanied by a twitch of his lips. ‘Gotta admit, that’s not a bad one.’

“Know what’s on the menu? Me-n-U. Get it?”

“Can I borrow a kiss? I promise I’ll give it back.”

For some reason that one made Ianto’s heart skip a beat.

“Just a heads-up, if a fat man puts you in a bag, don’t worry. I told Santa I wanted you for Christmas.”

“You’re so beautiful I forgot my next pick-up line!”

Ianto snorted into his beer. ‘Like that would ever happen!’ 

“Are you a parking ticket? Cos you’ve got FINE written all over you.”

“Do I know you? You look a lot like my next boyfriend.”

That line left Ianto no choice but to turn and cock an eyebrow in the stranger’s direction. “Really?” 

The man grinned unashamedly back at Ianto. “Do you have a name, or can I just call you mine?”

Shaking his head, Ianto returned to his beer, somehow not surprised that a fresh shot of whiskey sat in front of him.

“Your hand looks heavy; let me hold it for you.”

“There’s a big sale in my bedroom tonight… clothes are 100% off.”

“Kissing is the language of love, so how about we have a conversation.”

Ianto’s eyes twinkled as he looked yet again at the handsome man he’d been doing his level best to ignore. This time he noticed the body. He wore old-fashioned braces over a pale blue shirt and dark trousers but Ianto could easily tell that the man was quite fit, with long legs and a lean torso. He glanced at the man’s hands, resting on the bar, and saw long elegant fingers with blunt manicured nails. 

Without looking away, Ianto grabbed the whiskey and shot it back in one gulp, then gestured frantically to Bethany for a refill. That one quickly followed the first; he was too caught up in the depths of the man’s eyes to notice the fiery burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat to warm his belly.

Suddenly, Ianto reached out and wrapped his hand around the man’s head, pulling him close and sealing their lips in a passionate kiss.

When they separated just enough to gulp in some much-needed air, Jack grinned. “Your place or mine?”

“Does it really matter?” Ianto tossed a handful of money onto the bar, not paying any attention to the denominations.

Bethany gathered up the money and gasped as she saw that at least two of the five bills were twenty-pound notes. “Ianto…”

“Not enough?” With his eyes glued to Jack’s, Ianto added more money. “Keep the change.”

With their arms wrapped around one another, Jack and Ianto pushed their way through a throng of people all having a great time, finally getting to the door and out into the fresh night air.

“I have to ask,” Ianto flattened himself against Jack to avoid being mowed down by a six-pack of Rugby players clearly celebrating a win for someone’s team as they sang a drunken version of ‘Land of Our Fathers’. “Where did you find all those pick-up lines? They were some of the worst I’ve ever heard!”

Jack chuckled as he enjoyed the feeling of Ianto’s body against his. “Yeah, they were, weren’t they?”

“Oh yeah!” They resumed their walk, heading back towards Ianto’s flat; every now and again, Ianto would stumble a wee bit, those last two shots of whiskey having gone just slightly to his head.

“I could have used some from the Marchison Galaxy, but I’m not sure about the context. Don’t suppose you have a prehensile tail?”

“If I do you’re the only one who’ll ever see it!” Ianto grinned at Jack’s silliness.

“Okay, confess. Which one was your favourite?” 

“Well, there are so many to pick from!” Ianto pondered for less than a second, “but obviously, it has to be ‘what flavour are my underwear tonight’. That one was priceless!”

Without warning, Jack dragged Ianto into a darkened alley, pressed him against the brick wall and then proceeded to slide his hand down the front of his lover’s trousers, cupping the bulge he found there, feeling the hardness encased in soft cotton Y-fronts. “So, Jones Ianto Jones, what flavour pants are you wearing then?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know!” Ianto squirmed and giggled as Jack’s fingers danced across his flesh.

Jack raised his hands and held Ianto’s face. “In this light, Yan, you are gorgeous.”

“Shut up and kiss me, you romantic fool,” said the pretty boy.

end


End file.
